Assembly
by Digolgrin
Summary: On the eve of what will go down as the single largest sea-and-airborne invasion attempt in military history, a pack of American paradogs assemble outside their aircraft and prepare to join their humans on a trek across the sea. Sequel to 'Rookies', my previous 'Balto in WWII' one-shot. Some OCs, one belonging to WolfDog-ArtCorner on deviantArt, others of my own naming.


**Author's Note:**__This is another "Balto in WWII" story roughly inspired by the works of WolfDog-ArtCorner on dA. No illustrations, just straight writing. I will confess to one accidental lie in the summary; Montana and Patch both are OCs that belong to WolfDog-ArtCorner. Juneau the Malamute and Aurora the Siberian Husky are my own OC's but honestly haven't been used anywhere else, so... *shrug* Either way, parachuting dogs are always welcome, so if you ever decide that's something you want to do for your next OC, then take the idea; the characters themselves are still mine.

To iterate the usual disclaimer, I do not own _Balto_, the animated film trilogy, or the characters within that appear in those films. Nor is this story historically accurate, though I have gone to great pains not seen since my days working on a realistic 'Spyro in the real world' fic to ensure that the setting _is_. The characters and their situation are not accurate, the setting and take-off time are, I would wager, pretty close.

**Assembly**

**USAAF Station AAF-474 (RAF Welford)**

**Near Welford, Berkshire, England**

**June 5th, 1944, 2325 hours**

D-Day. The Dreaded Day, as the Warwolves of the 101st Airborne Division gradually began to call it over the course of their training, had finally arrived, although if you asked Balto and his family, it had really started during the last week of May.

On Wednesday, May 31st-Balto knew the date well, and could track their progress through the calendar based on this alone-their only daughter, Aleu, and her pack of wolves and wolfdogs was suddenly detached from their unit and transferred, along with their handlers, to an airfield farther north, near the border of a place called 'Scotland'. They knew she would stay safe out there, but the mere fact that she was trained as part of a pathfinder unit and therefore slated to go in ahead of them brought great worry to her parents-Jenna especially.

On Thursday, June 1st, the Warwolves conducted their final daytime practice jumps. That night in the Warwolf barracks, the Warwolf alpha, Steele the Alaskan Malamute, whose handler was none other than General Max Taylor himself, announced that D-Day would begin in 72 hours-a unit of time not many had conceptions of, but one they understood with solemn acceptance.

On Friday, June 2nd, which was a quiet day, Kodi would confide in his friend Dusty, and later in his parents, that he missed Aleu greatly and wished she was still there.

On Saturday, June 3rd, Kirby rallied his sled team to action as the Warwolves entered into rapid-fire night jump training sessions. The more relaxed, evenly-spaced daytime jumps gave way to intense, stressful bursts of adrenaline, often performed in total darkness-even on board the aircraft-to prepare the humans for the real thing. Though a good many of the front-liners came to enjoy the challenge, Jenna and her fellow para-medics would return to their barracks shaken and clearly stressed, unused to the constant pressure of repeatedly landing and almost immediately reboarding their planes.

On Sunday, June 4th, the airbase fell silent as stick leaders received their final briefings, with each Warwolf attending alongside their handlers. The reality of the coming invasion began to sink in for the rest of the Warwolves at this same time. That night, before the final set of practice jumps, Steele would lead a group discussion of what they had heard, promising a much more satisfying speech for the next day.

Now the date was Monday, June 5th, 1944. The atmosphere of what they all considered 'invasion day' was unusually solemn and quiet. Many of the front-line Warwolves-Balto included-would spend their final hours on-base and gear-free taking in the scents and sounds one last time before their final jump into the Land Across the Sea.

But that wasn't to say that was all they did. Dusty and Kodi, who knew they would be operating in the same area and now had the good fortune of being on the same plane, much to Kirby's dismay, spent their time running through jump procedures by 'jumping' out of a parked Skytrain, hammering in their landings for the drop to come.

Ralph gorged himself on as much 'good' dog food as he reasonably could, for after today, all he could look forward to were sloppy-looking Army rations, while Kirby went on one last nature hike with his handler, alongside the para-medics-after some badgering, of course.

But Balto had the most interesting day of them all. His handler, Lieutenant Ford, the Division HQ medic, had himself experienced the Nome diptheria epidemic of 1925 and saw, firsthand, Balto's namesake deliver the serum safely to those that needed it most. Though his Balto was a wolfdog rather than a black Siberian Husky, or so he remembered, the nature of war was such that he figured he wouldn't get many chances to acknowledge the service that dog performed for his hometown.

So he got a few buddies together, borrowed some paint from the mechanics and aircrews, and, after luring the wolf in with vague promises of food, very carefully painted over Balto's fur in black, as a tribute to the dog that saved his sister. It was a hard process, one that took longer than he'd envisioned, but when they were done, Balto had virtually become a different dog.

So much so, in fact, that when he emerged from the tent Ford and his friends had kept him in while they made him over, Jenna almost mistook him for Montana, another wolfdog pathfinder that had left on the 31st. After peering over his new look, he figured it'd keep him nice and hidden during the battle at hand; after all, they were going in at pretty much the dead of night. The less chance the Nazis could have of identifying him as an enemy, the better-just as long as he didn't end up in any water.

Steele, meanwhile, had spent much of the day accompanying the General as the human personally inspected his battalion, even wearing his parachute and gear throughout at the demand of his own handler-perhaps as a demonstration of the alpha's power, perhaps as motivational propaganda, who could say?

All anyone knew was that by the time the sun finally set, the ships set sail, and the planes got their marks, he came back into the Warwolf barracks wearing that gear with a sense of pride and devotion none had seen before, and called them to the assembly area without even a flourish in his voice.

The consensus they reached as they marched to the tent that had become something like a second home to them was thus: If even the high and mighty Steele couldn't twist the Dreaded Day into something to be proud of, then it was to be a dark day indeed.

One by one, each dog accompanied their sticks into the assembly area tent. First Kodi and Dusty, then Kirby and Ralph. Where before Kodi would have flailed, flinched and floundered at every pull and push, he now sat in somber silence-a fact which concerned even his handler, Private Adams.

Corporal Travers did not ask Dusty the question she had so enthusiastically answered at the beginning of every jump day. Then again, with all the constant practice, even at night, she understood. Not that it stopped her from giving the usual reply, of course; anything to ease the tension in her heart.

Kirby and his handler, Sergeant Griffin, shared a somber moment together as they exited the tent, forehead to forehead as the two embraced in a kind of hug. If it hadn't been apparent already, it was now clear that their trust was stronger than any words could convey.

Ralph's handler, Corporal Lennox, would confess that he would miss the big dog's good-natured and charming sense of humor aboard the plane-mostly because his size meant he couldn't get much of a comfortable seat and just spent the ride to altitude hanging out and lying down in the aisle-and especially working with the dog's larger parachute, as that was always a challenge.

As Kodi left the tent, he looked up to the stars and knew, on some level, that one hundred and twenty miles away, pathfinders Aleu, Montana, and Nava were boarding their planes and setting off for France at this very moment. He said a silent prayer to Sirius, the dog star, that they would be safe, even though that was against the humans' normal conventions.

Following him were two more groups of four Warwolves, and then Balto, Kaltag, Nikki and Star, the first of two teams of medical dogs. Though the other three were always something of the 'barracks clowns', as Jenna always called them, with nary a night going by without Star receiving some form of bodily harm, the fact that the Division HQ medic was his handler meant that Balto held the 'prestigious' honor of accompanying the General on his plane-even though his eternal rival Steele would ride with him. They seemed to get along fine when the time came to jump, but now, as the real jump approached, even Ralph wondered how long that would last under fire.

Somehow, this was true even in the assembly tent on the Dreaded Day-the day when all joking seemed to come to a screeching halt. Although Balto, Nikki and Kaltag geared up mostly alone, except for their sticks and their handlers, the perpetually anxious and high-strung Star was allowed the company of the other three, as Steele was out leading the other Warwolves to a patch of grass by the tent for some reason and, well, let's be honest, even this strong alpha had his detractors. They held a short conversation that attempted to distract the poor husky from what was being done to him, even as his handler, Private Sunderland, forced his spindly hind legs through straps he would have had no trouble with if it weren't for his attitude.

Then, once Sunderland had finally finished and Star was allowed to leave, his excitement at being let out of the tent was such that in his haste, his snout met with a support pole firmly planted into the top soil. His response, as he got back to his feet and everyone, even the humans, got off quick laughs at his expense: "Why is it always _me?_"

But then he was out as well, and in, after the second team, and some hesitation on their own behalf, trotted the para-medics, led by the ever-motherly Jenna. These brave Warwolves did not have very many jumps under their belt up to this point, and would stay behind for at least a few hours, worrying over the males (and females, Dusty and Jenna's own best friend Aurora would have pointed out) fighting for their lives on the frontline until the morning came in earnest and they, too, would get their chance to parachute into the Land Across the Sea, carrying medical supplies the real medics may be running short of.

Eventually, they would be attached to a front-line combat unit as secondary medical dogs, in order to prevent as many cases of more than two Warwolves being on a plane as possible and pack more men into a plane at once, but Jenna, as brave as she was, did not look forward to this. If there was anything she didn't have on the surface, it was a killer instinct; competition was in the blood of her mate's ilk and even in her children, but not her. This wasn't her war to fight, after all; the only reason she was even attached to her handler, Sergeant Randall, was the bandana he gave her after a night on the town. It barely held around her neck, especially during a jump, but even Balto had to agree, it set her apart from every other dog on the jump roster. Even now, in his mind's eye, he could still picture her on a windy day, both bandana and open parachute billowing in the wind, paws held firmly to the ground through naught else but sheer force of will. If the Warwolves had pin-ups like their humans did, his Jenna would be front and center.

Not that she wasn't proud to wear this 'chute. Heck, she welcomed it; back home, she wouldn't have had anything to pull other than a toy sled, which honestly felt nothing like the real thing. Even then, she wouldn't have done so very often, so getting to wear a parachute and a harness full of gear all the time felt quite fulfilling, to say the least. Though it came equipped with all the same pouches and supplies that Balto and his fellows would carry around, save for an additional medicine pouch on the collar, the insignia on the sides bore a white parachute design with the Red Cross upon the canopy, similarly to the main front-line dogs, to help differentiate the para-medics from the actual medical dogs. This was something they and their handlers hoped would be changed once the invasion began, for fear that the enemy would fail to identify the smaller cross and therefore land them in the line of fire, but since their handlers' helmets still bore the usual Red Cross insignia, Jenna somehow doubted that would ever happen.

Once they were all done, they stepped out of the tent and were met by none other than their alpha-Jenna always scoffed at that, she could hardly believe Kirby had been passed over for the position-who led them to the same patch of grass all the other Warwolves, save for one or two more groups, were gathered around. Jenna and her unit plopped down next to Balto's group, at her own discretion, but while her teammates swarmed around the 'poor baby' Star (who, Jenna swore, was playing up his injury simply for sympathy's sake), she stayed snuggled up to her soon-to-be departing mate, his golden eyes shimmering like the nuggets still found to this day in the rivers of Alaska, back home.

Then the final three groups joined them, and Steele took his place at the center, his subordinates all gathered in front of him like some sort of theater audience. Even Kirby had to admit, this was incredibly ostentatious, even for him.

Nevertheless, the Malamute commanded such respect, as seemingly undeserved as it was, that their chatter fell completely silent just as he cleared his throat-even from Balto and Kirby's team.

"Warwolves! Listen up!" Steele began. "I was not kidding around when I said this invasion would start in exactly seventy-two hours; in just a few minutes, you will join your handlers and sticks aboard your assigned aircraft. I hope to Sirius you haven't forgotten which one is yours since last night." He glared at Star, who had a similar incident during the previous night's jump session; Star just grinned sheepishly and stifled a nervous laugh.

"Now, as you know, the humans can't understand us, but if they could, General Taylor would have wanted me to congratulate you on making it this far." he continued. "I'm the one doing the congratulating, of course, 'cause he doesn't really give two shakes about us. But still; give yourselves a scratch on the neck; you've earned it."

So they did, and the group chatter resumed as dog let dog scratch each other's exposed scruffs-the one thing they could scratch that wasn't covered by a parachute or harness.

Steele, of course, still had more to say, and he waited 'til most of his charge had finished rewarding themselves so he could speak again. "Don't get too comfortable, though. Just because this is our last jump for now doesn't mean we'll be out of danger." He gave a solitary laugh to emphasize this point. "No, far from it. I don't think I need to remind you that this is the real thing."

A few murmurs of assent rose from the crowd. The black Malamute could pick out Dusty and Balto's voices amongst them, but didn't call them out, instead pacing back and forth. "Hell, I don't need to remind myself. We slept in the same place for, what, two, three months?" He tried to track the passage of time on his two front paws, and planted paw on face when he realized even he couldn't say for certain they'd been there. Laughter followed, to which he responded: "Look, just because the General's got me on a leash these days doesn't mean I've got the answers to everything. I'm not his confidant, and I'm sure as hell not his best friend. The only reason I'm telling you all this is because that's what I hear coming out of his mouth."

"What a surprise," Kaltag jeered; the other Warwolves laughed with him. Even Jenna and the para-medics joined in.

"We're dogs, they're not _supposed_ to tell us anything," the Malamute pointed out. "Still, I've seen the bonds you all have with your handlers; if the brass doesn't care about us, I believe your handlers would. Like you, they're all part of the same great American experiment in warfare. They've scratched your back for as long as you've been here; now it's time for you to scratch theirs."

"Yeah, but..." Star raised a paw. "How are we gonna..."

White paw met silver face in precisely that same moment.

"Ow!" the smaller husky cried, clutching his snout. "Dang it, Balto, I think you just made it worse!"

The wolfdog smirked as the pack's laughter died down. Honestly, that felt good; he understood why Kaltag was so fond of the act now. "Metaphor, Star," he explained.

"Says the wolf in dog's clothing..." Star muttered under his breath, as Steele cleared his throat again.

"Anyway, we're short on time, so I'll keep this brief." He began pacing back and forth in front of the front-line paradogs, who made up the majority of the unit. "You've all shown significant growth since your first training jumps; this much I can't deny. But tonight, I want to give special attention to Kodi, from Kirby's pack."

At the very mention of his name, the red husky got to his feet and stood proudly amongst his teammates, with Dusty, his self-appointed instructor, joining him not long after.

"Two months ago, this dog plodded onto this airfield a rookie and a nervous wreck," the Malamute began. "Even had a little accident with Dusty over there on his first jump, as I understand it."

The two dogs, and the assembled Warwolves, laughed as the memory of that particularly painful landing resurfaced.

"Since then, we've seen him grow into a well-trained and well-disciplined paradog, despite the short notice; I've never seen anyone come down from a 'no-leash' situation quite as calmly as he does."

Kodi chuckled. "No big secret to it, Steele, you just don't panic!" he exclaimed. "Count to five and pull if nothing happens. Nothin' else to it!"

"He's right," Dusty chimed in, with a bit of a giggle thrown in. "Still, do as I say, not as I do."

"Besides, I don't think I'd have gotten this far without Dusty," the crimson male added. "You're sellin' her short; she's been a great help, an excellent teacher..." Here he glanced at the brown husky next to him, a smile on his face as his tail began to wag. "...and a really good friend."

Dusty smiled and gave her 'student' a nuzzle out of gratitude. Which, in hindsight, was not a very wise move, as most of their packmates would start fawning over the pair as if they'd been courting for as long as he'd been on the jump roster, but what could she do? Best way she could've given thanks without outright saying 'thanks.'

"So, Dusty, this mean we'll be seeing puppies after the war's done?" Patch the African Painted Dog called from the back.

At this, the brown husky scoffed as she sat back down on her haunches. "Let's just cross that bridge when we get to it, okay? Don't wanna talk about it right now."

"Oh yeah, that's right; you and Ralph are still an item, ain'tcha?"

"I said I don't wanna talk about it," she snapped, cutting off Nikki's inquiry at the tail, as Ralph, the big lug, nodded in agreement. Kodi stepped down not long after that, not wanting to attract any more attention than he already had.

Next, Steele turned to the medical dogs, sixteen in number if one counted the para-medics. He began by addressing the front-liners, as he had with Dusty and her group. "Medics, I'm glad to see you've taken to the sky as well as you have," he said simply. "There's something to be said for your tenacity and devotion to..." He stopped just as he realized the dog he called 'Balto' didn't really look, or smell, like Balto anymore. "...Wait a minute, where'd Bingo get off to? I heard him here not too long ago."

Balto would have stayed quiet and gotten away with a prank on the alpha-he'd pulled it off so perfectly against Kaltag and the others, and the 'concerned' look on Jenna's face held so well-but unfortunately, old habits die hard, and like it or not, this Malamute knew all the right buttons to press. "Oh, for Sirius's sake, _Steele_, we've been over this..."

Which earned the newly-blackened wolfdog a sinister grin and a gravelly chuckle in response. "Oh, there you are, _Balto_; thought I... lost you there for a second," Steele growled. "All the paint buckets in the world can't change your _name_, now can they?"

"Or his eyes, for that matter," Star interrupted.

...Only to receive a thwack from one of the Malamute's hind legs before he could explain. "Thanks for that, Captain Obvious," Steele retorted.

"Was fun while it lasted..." Jenna mumbled, shrugging her encumbered shoulders as her eyes flickered back to her mate. The smile, however, still held, as the reaction was going to be the big payoff anyway.

Balto braced himself for a browbeating and more verbal abuse from this so-called 'alpha' for 'hiding his true self from the world,' or whatever bullshit sentence he could throw together to describe how he saw the new paintjob. Nikki hadn't been too keen on it either, but Nikki was Nikki; even he had agreed it made him look like a completely different dog at first glance, and didn't make such a big deal out of it. Steele, however, was a showman and...

...Wait, did he just hold himself back? Why were his eyes passing over the new fur with such interest? Could it be that Steele, the only dog that truly hated Balto's guts, _actually thought_ this was a good idea?

"...Well, I'll be damned," the older Malamute breathed, poring over every little brushstroke on his fur. The cocksure grin on Jenna's face died with every little deviation in the alpha's expected demeanor, but still she stayed positive. If what Lieutenant Ford did to her mate was good enough for _Steele_ to complement it, then perhaps there was hope for those two after all.

As it turned out, Ol' Ironsides, as Balto had taken to calling him in private, was thinking the same exact thing. "Black fur for the blackest night... Heh, that's pretty smart camoflauge, if I do say so myself."

"You sure you're not just sayin' that 'cause we look almost the same now, Steele?"

"He kinda has a point, Boss," Nikki chimed in. "If it ain't for the eyes and him bein', y'know, part-wolf, you two would be pretty much..."

"Identical?" the Malamute finished, with a laugh. "Nikki, I'm aware of the implications, but in case you've forgotten, we are jumping into Normandy in the dark of night! The less the Nazis see of us, the better."

Then he got to the para-medics, and all of his composure, for a moment, fell apart as he stammered and tried to come up with any meaningful words. They cleaned up nicely, all things considered. "And you..." he finally spoke, after planting paw upon face once more, "Honestly, I don't understand how you ladies are still in good spirits right now."

"Oh, don't worry about us, Steele," said Aurora, the black and white Siberian Husky para-medic, as Juneau, their Malamute, nodded in agreement. "We get on alright."

"Of course," Steele sighed, as the Warwolves broke into laughter yet again.

"Sure about that, Aurora?" Dusty asked, grinning mischievously, "I heard you had to be thrown out of the plane last night!"

"So was I," Star countered, "but you don't hear me complainin'!"

Up until the moment her paw connected with his snout, Juneau, or just 'June' to her friends, had been practically fawning over the runty husky's injury, even if it _had_ been hammed up for the sake of attention. Now, this attitude had changed-if only to indulge in the trend set by the Universe over these months. "You don't count, Star!" she laughed.

"Gah!" he grunted, again clutching his bruised snout. "And here I thought we had somethin' special!"

"June, I mean it, lay off of Star," Steele commanded. "In fact, that goes for all of you, although I know you're probably not gonna listen. He's not the enemy; not anymore."

The runt breathed a deep sigh of relief. "Oh, thank you, Steele," came his reply. "I thought you wouldn't be..."

But this merciful side was replaced by a toothy, almost sinister, grin. "He's just going to be someone else's problem now."

The little husky sputtered for a bit, but when he caught Kaltag readying his paw for a bonk on the noggin, he settled on the more tail-kissy interpretation of his statement as referring to the Nazis, and not his handler. "..._Ooooh_! I get it!" he laughed. "Sorta!"

Kaltag set the offending paw down. No need to punch a Star that knew what was going on.

"But you girls are alright," the Malamute eventually picked back up. "Before I forget: Good luck. We'll see you on the ground tomorrow."

Jenna wouldn't let this alpha hear it, but as he turned and padded away, she couldn't help but mumble, under her breath, "Like we'll need it..."

The unmistakable drone of Skytrain engines that had hung in the air since Steele began his speech now reached their loudest, as they flew over the airstrip on their path to greater glory. This was his cue to finish up and order his lessers back to their sticks for boarding.

Or it would've been if not for one solitary howl from above, its origin hidden in the aluminum cloud passing over them. The gathered dogs could not determine what message it was trying to send, but Balto, Jenna and Kodi knew in their hearts the sender's identity, and eventually, so did everyone else. "Aleu!" a voice rose from the crowd, as hushed whispers overtook them.

"That was Aleu! Mom, did you hear that?"

A second, much louder howl followed, and this time there was no mistaking it. Aleu was calling out to her parents and fellow Warwolves down below, in all likelihood just to let them know she was alright, and that she'd be waiting for them in the Land Across the Sea.

As elated as they could possibly have been to hear her voice again, the common thought running through her family's minds was a collective prayer to Sirius that she was safely secured in her plane's door; the last thing any of them wanted to see right now was a snow white parachute forming in the sky, especially with the invasion already underway like this. They couldn't know how that would've gotten resolved.

Thankfully, that didn't happen. Instead, the gathered Warwolves, after some prodding from Balto, all returned her greeting, howling not at the moon, but at the Skytrains roaring past their airstrip. They hoped that it would be loud enough for Aleu to hear all that way up, for her to see that she was missed and that they had heard her.

They didn't expect a response, but perhaps, or so they hoped, they would even get through to Montana, Nava and the other three pathfinders as well. Who could say?

Eventually, their cries did die down, minutes before the humans would have stepped in to shut them up, as the pathfinders' planes soared past and seemed to disappear into the others. This extravagant display of Allied airpower seemed to transfix the Warwolves, who up until now had only ever truly known of the Airborne battalions and transport squadrons lying in wait here. While Steele continued to pretend he was even slightly important to the war effort, even he was surprised at the number of planes soaring up above him. Far as they'd been told, they were the _only_ Allied paradogs on the frontline; even imagining the number of men in those tin cans without a dog as company only lessened their self-importance. Still, they had their own jobs to do; help their humans secure the Normandy exits, by any means necessary.

After all, at the end of the day, they were just dogs. As much as Steele believed it to be true, they couldn't just merge into a united wolf pack, storm across the French-German border and go bite Hitler in the rear. The war would have to come first, and that meant staying with the humans until the job was done.

Which reminded Steele, the war was still on. No point in sitting around, howling at the moon. The humans, well, their humans, at least, were waiting on them. He knew the General wouldn't be particularly pleased with the delay either.

So he simply turned himself around. "I couldn't think of a better way to wrap this up," he admitted, "so let's just hope we'll see each other on the ground."

Murmurs of assent.

"All right, then let's do this. Balto, Kirby, lead out, double-time!"

Dusty and her crimson partner exchanged glances as their alpha faced his charge of twelve and cocked his head in the direction of their gathered, battle-ready humans. "Let's get it done!" said Kodi; Dusty nodded, pulling in front of the rookie as the crowd got to moving again.

Patch, one of the few non-medic friends Balto had other than Dusty and her teammates, would hopefully be landing in close to the same spot as his now-blackened buddy, so even they wouldn't be apart for long. Still, the uncertainty hanging in the air led him directly to the wolf's side as he and Jenna finished exchanging farewell nuzzles and split for their own objectives. "Hey, Balto," he began, "I'll see you on the other side!"

Soon the group had dispersed, now joining their handlers for their long-awaited battlefield debut. One by one, each stick clambered single-file into their internally lit planes, their Warwolves not far behind. Jenna and her para-medics were left to sit by and watch as their closest friends and, at least in Jenna's case, mates disappeared behind paper-thin deep green aluminum and glass. She would lift a paw in farewell before turning around and leading her 'squad' back to the barracks, in search of an early night's sleep.

Yes, wearing their parachutes, but Jenna figured they had geared up for a reason, and she trusted her friends not to mess about with each others' gear while they slept. One early-pull incident too many taught her the importance of that; in fact, her 'alter-ego', the (to her fellow Warwolves) legendary White Wolf, Cloaked Crusader, was really just her forgetting to shake that bit of improvised camoflauge off after staking out an ambush against some of Star's, well, "admirers." It was a Sirius-blessed miracle none of them noticed the shroud lines, let alone any of her already bright red fur.

It was also miraculous that Balto and Star had vowed to keep her secret in the first place, but now she wondered if it was even worthwhile now that they would be away from 'home' for goodness knows how long. Better to speak up in the Land Across the Sea than be made out for a fraud.

However, their early departure meant that they would miss Steele creeping out of General Taylor's sight, against all odds (and expectations), and sneaking almost seven planes over, where another stick was itself boarding their express plane to France-the same stick a certain crimson husky fell in just a month and a half ago.

Now, Kodi bore no shortage of anxiety by this point, there was no hiding that (the ammo belts slung clumsily around his neck and the BAR magazines tucked neatly into his parachute harness didn't lie), but now, like Dusty, he knew to hide what he could behind a much tougher exterior; scowled face, tail erect, confident posture. Even as Private Adams stood next to him, his 'leash' in hand, as they watched Dusty's handler hook hers to the ceiling, he refused to break down and hide under his legs. There would be time to show it on the way to the DZ, and plenty of it.

Besides, he knew his mother would be joining him over there anyway, eventually. That was a small comfort, right?

But when the black Malamute came to visit, static line still stowed, he couldn't help but gasp and take a few steps back. "S-Steele?" he stammered. "N-not a good time!"

The self-proclaimed alpha chuckled, tail at an almost hypnotizing sashay. "Relax, 'Kodiak', you're a paradog, not a mascot," he reassured the rookie. "How's Dusty been holding up for ya?"

"I've been following her lead all the time, don't think there's anything wrong with that, sir," he shrugged. "Nervous, yeah, but we grin and bear it."

Steele nodded, lifted a paw. "Of course, of course."

"How's Dad?"

"Eh, the wolf's still got a ways to go," Steele admitted. "but yeah, he's fine too."

Kodi held back a chuckle of his own as he shifted his weight. Dusty had just been loaded on and the line'd be moving again soon. "Like father, like son, huh Steele?"

"Yeah, yeah," Steele mumbled, looking back in General Taylor's direction; watching for any sign that his handler missed his presence.

They sat in silence for but only a few seconds before Steele spoke up again. "You miss her, don't you?"

Kodi glanced at the Malamute, quickly returning his gaze to the Skytrain before him. "Who, Aleu? Of course, she's my sister!" he replied with a nervous chuckle. "Why the hell wouldn't I?"

Steele grinned his usual grin. "Girl's got spunk, that's for sure," he agreed. Then his face turned somber. "I spoke with her and the pathfinders the day they went north. Gave them a little 'motivational speech' before they took off."

"Like the one you gave us?"

The Malamute nodded. "Yeah, but shorter, much shorter. I just told 'em that the humans would value their service and we'd see 'em again on the ground. Not much else to it." He looked the crimson husky in the eyes right then, as he stood. "But I got a little time alone with Aleu before she left."

Kodi's ears perked up at the mere combination of words the 'alpha' had just used. Aleu hadn't gotten the chance to say goodbye to him before she left, and he'd taken her howling just minutes ago as a general farewell more than anything else, so this was exciting. "What? What'd she say?"

Now it was Steele's turn to back away; even in his social engineering mindset, he hadn't anticipated this degree of a response. Once he'd collected himself, he returned to his train of thought. "She wanted me to tell you that she'd miss you too and that she hopes you have a safe landing, of course, but, and don't freak out, she also says she'll meet us right at our dropzone."

It took everything Kodi had to keep his elation from taking over. "For real?!" he nearly shouted.

"Aleu and her team are in charge of setting up Dropzone Charlie. Same one we're jumpin' on," the black Malamute confirmed. "Even caught General Taylor acting concerned about 'the wolves we sent to NW'. Whatever that means."

"Do you know where they'll meet us?"

"How should I know?" Steele turned and began to slink away; he absolutely couldn't afford to waste a single second more of his handler's time. "There's something like thirty of us and about a hundred humans; one of us'll probably grab her scent when we land!"

"I just hope Dad finds her first!"

"You part-wolves just _love_ to stick together, you know that?" the Malamute snarled. "You'd better get on board; I don't want to keep Bingo waiting!"

Kodi turned his gaze away from his so-called 'alpha' for just the barest fraction of time; sure enough, his line had started moving again, one soldier at a time; Adams himself looked about ready to pull him along by the leash, even, and he did _not_ want to hear another chortle from Dusty about that, so orders would be orders, for now. "Wouldn't have it any other way, Steele!" Kodi called in the meantime. "And my dad's named _Balto_!"

The Malamute just rolled his eyes, but by this point his back had already turned towards the soon-to-be-wayward husky, leash bouncing along behind himself as he walked back to his plane. "Yeah, yeah, whatever," came his reply. "Good luck; see you on the ground!"

At that moment, Adams pulled on his charge's 'leash', though not hard enough to pull his parachute out of the pack. Quick forward glances reminded him that the line had gotten back on track; Dusty was nowhere to be seen. The only thing left for him to do now was board and prepare for take-off. "Yeah, you too!" he called back as the pair shuffled towards the door.

As the husky clambered aboard the plane and patiently awaited Adams' next command, his face turned sullen, as had Dusty's. The time for mourning had now past. Now was the moment of truth.


End file.
